


Next step into the stars

by Vampiric_Charms



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, F/F, Force dreams & meditation, Hurt/Comfort, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:00:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28047321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampiric_Charms/pseuds/Vampiric_Charms
Summary: Ahsoka receives a jarring message through the Force that urges her to Bo-Katan’s side.  Fate is not always kind, a reality Ahsoka is far too familiar with - but even still, she will do everything in her power to keep Bo-Katan with her against whatever odds.
Relationships: Bo-Katan Kryze & Ahsoka Tano, Bo-Katan Kryze/Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 16
Kudos: 88





	Next step into the stars

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline? What timeline? (Though I think this one takes place a little closer to _The Mandalorian_ rather than the end of the prequels. So specific, you're welcome. Maybe one day I'll sit down and figure all this out.)
> 
> Enjoy!

Ahsoka wasn’t asleep, not quite, when the unexpected pulse shot through her.

She opened her eyes, groggy and unsure of what had happened to pull her so solidly into consciousness. But then she felt it again, a sharp pierce through the Force. It was small, fragile - but it was there, pushing against her mind. Ahsoka sat up and swung her legs over the side of the metal bed frame. Her ship was orbiting an unnamed moon in the Outer Rim, powered down while she took a short nap on her way home, and she desperately needed the sleep. Looked like she wasn't going to get it.

The pulse came again, and she hunched over, putting her head between her knees. The call may not be strong, but it was already wreaking havoc on her stomach. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to focus through the nausea overwhelming everything else.

_Who are you?_

No response was forthcoming, but it washed over her once more without direction, only enough to make her feel ill again. Another deep breath, and she shoved herself into a light meditative state.

She felt pain, and alarm, and anger. There was blood. She couldn’t get air into her lungs, her limbs felt heavy even as blows continued to come. Someone was attacking her and she couldn’t fight back any longer, a child was there, too close and watching everything with wide, scared eyes. Ahsoka saw red hair, beskar. More blood. Bodies, all around her, dropped by familiar hands. 

And then there was nothing. The call vanished.

It was Bo-Katan, Ahsoka could feel it through every nerve and bone in her body.

Ahsoka’s eyes flew open and she jumped from the thin mattress, almost skidding on the cold metal floor in her bare feet as she sprinted to the conn. The ship powered up immediately under her attention and, only thinking of her friend, she punched in coordinates she had never seen before they appeared in her mind. 

Bo-Katan was calling to her, whether she knew she was or not. Or at least, she _had_ been calling to her before the energy stopped. Ahsoka had never felt this from Bo-Katan before, even after all the years they had been in close contact, and fear crept up into her throat as she leapt into hyperspace toward an unknown destination. 

Hyperspace spit her out near Florrum almost an hour later. It made sense, Ahsoka remembered as she entered orbit and let her senses out. Bo-Katan had sent a transmission only a few days ago, letting her know they were laying over here while they gathered supplies. As for the exact location...

Ahsoka squinted at the dry planet through the ship’s viewscreen, feeling more than looking. There, she decided, turning the craft toward the northwestern hemisphere. She sent a ping to Bo-Katan’s comm using their personal frequency, wanting it to give her further direction on where to land. No answer came to her prod, though, and she settled for following the coordinates that came back now that she was in range.

She brought her ship down through the atmosphere, already scanning the planet’s surface below her. The ground was just as dusty as she remembered, and a small cluster of mountains rose up into the cloudy sky. 

At the foot of the mountains in a wide grassless field she saw the familiar ship she was looking for. Two other smaller vessels were landed beside it, one on either side, and the sight bolstered her spirits just a bit; at least Bo-Katan had found more allies during their time apart.

Her ship landed on the plain with a thump, and she rushed through the power down procedures faster than she should. Normally by now she could feel Bo-Katan through the Force, her soul close enough to connect with Ahsoka’s as a faint hum. 

This time, though, she felt nothing.

She grabbed her cloak off the hook by the landing doors, double checked her lightsabers were attached to her belt, and pushed the button to lower the ramp.

As soon as her feet touched the planet surface, a swarm of seven armor-clad Mandalorians ran from their ships, intending to surround her. She did not recognize any of them under their helmets, but all she really cared about in the moment was getting to Bo-Katan, who was not among the group running toward her.

Ahsoka held up her hands in a placating gesture, but she continued walking impatiently toward the ship she knew was Bo’s. Several blasters raised as she went, more with blades and other weapons, ready to fight her. She did not exactly wish to harm any of these people, though she was fully prepared to incompaciate any who stood between her and her friend.

“I am here to see Lady Bo-Katan,” Ahsoka said clearly, doing her best to make her intentions clear enough to encourage them to stand down. 

It didn’t work.

A woman stepped forward, her helmeted head angled threateningly. She raised her blaster to aim at Ahsoka’s chest, and Ahsoka eyed her as calmly as she could as her impatience came close to bubbling over. 

“Our lady is not available,” the woman said, voice angry. “You are not welcome here. Leave us or face your death.”

Ahsoka almost rolled her eyes, not at all surprised by the dramatic words that seemed to be as close to a Mandalorian as their armor. She was about to say something else, starting to get irritated as no one moved to listen, when another Mandalorian pushed through the crowd of his fellows.

“Wait,” he said, pulling off his helmet and pushing down the blasters he passed. “Wait, I know her! Let her through, she can help.”

Ahsoka didn’t remember the man’s name, but she recognized him from the Siege so many years ago. His face was lined now, haggard after the difficult life they had led, but he looked worried - which did not sit well in Ahsoka’s stomach, to see such a soldier so troubled. She lowered her hands, watching as the group very slowly made a path for her through them.

The man gestured for Ahsoka to follow him, and she did. Helmets turned as she passed, and she felt their curiosity as well as their radiating anger. It wasn’t directed at her, necessarily, this anger, but it was palpable and fresh. Something _had_ happened.

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”

Her guide glanced at her over his shoulder, blinking through the dust their feet were kicking up. “Nej,” he said, neglecting to name his clan. Perhaps on purpose, Ahsoka realized, though it did not matter much to her.

“Nej,” she asked as they reached Bo-Katan’s ship and walked up the ramp, “what happened?”

Nej paused and looked at her clearly then, and she could see confusion in his eyes as he studied her. “Do you not know? I assumed you were summoned by one of us.” When she raised her eyebrows, he frowned. “There has been an accident,” he told her evasively. “Lady Bo-Katan has taken ill.”

There was something very understated about his description of events and Ahsoka blinked at him, taking in his reluctance and the faint stirrings of fear, alarm. “There was no accident,” said Ahsoka and the color drained from Nej’s face.

“No,” he agreed and, not giving an explanation, he kept walking. Ahsoka followed him.

The ship was not terribly large, though Ahsoka’s little one could easily fit inside it ten times over. It was an old Nabooian class, refitted and rebuilt to suit the Mandalorians’ needs as they traveled the galaxy. Ahsoka had only been on board a handful of times over the many years they had all been adrift without homes to return to, but she knew her way even without Nej to guide her. She was very surprised, though, when they rounded the corner toward the old crew quarters and she saw the two fully armored guards stationed outside Bo-Katan’s door.

She stopped in her tracks, grabbing Nej’s beskar-clad arm to turn him forcefully around. “What is going on?” she asked, demanding an real answer this time.

Nej looked at the guards and then back at Ahsoka. “It was Clan Saxon,” he told her, jaw clenching as the words were finally spat out. “They tried to assassinate Lady Bo-Katan. They were - they were almost successful. She is still very - ”

Ahsoka’s heart thudded against her sternum. She pushed past Nej before he could finish speaking and glared at the guards’ masked faces before punching in the entry code Bo-Katan had given her a long time ago, when they were still able to regularly visit. The door hissed open. A doctor looked up, startled at her appearance, and she stood from where she had been kneeling beside the small metal cot attached to the bulkhead, taking scans on the instrument in her hand.

The woman opened her mouth to speak, but Ahsoka ignored her as her attention narrowed. 

Not acknowledging anyone else, all she focused on was Bo-Katan, prone on the bed. She was still in her armor, and the breastplate was covered in blood. Her arms, too, were bloody all the way up to her shoulders. But her helmet was on the floor, revealing a large, jagged gash across the side of her neck, as though someone had tried to stab her there and ended up pulling the knife out badly. It had been closed with bacta, though a large scar was left behind. 

Ahsoka took a deep breath, steadying herself against the sudden wave of panic that tried to well in her chest, and approached the bedside. The doctor hesitated to let her near, but she didn’t stop her, either. 

“Bo,” Ahsoka whispered, “can you hear me?”

Bo-Katan was conscious, though barely. Her green eyes were glassy, not able to focus on anything, and they were full of pain as they darted about the room. She didn’t seem to notice Ahsoka beside her, far away with the suffering forced upon her and lost to it in her spiraling mind. Her blood-speckled face was pale, lips almost blue - but seeing her alive, feeling the small thrum of her presence through the Force again, was all Ahsoka needed to know everything was going to be okay. 

Nej came in behind her, leaving the door open, but he stayed several steps away. The woman who had spoken to her when she had first disembarked was behind him in the hallway. Her helmet was tucked under her arm and her young face was furious.

“What’s her condition?” Ahsoka asked the doctor, ignoring the other two Mandalorians for the moment.

The doctor eyed her, unsure, but Ahsoka knelt on the floor beside the bed and held a hand out in the space over Bo-Katan’s chest. Her energy was there, though it was wavering and unsteady. Ahsoka did not need to check her pulse to know that her body was failing her, and very quickly.

They needed to act fast, if she was to be saved.

“It’s a poison,” the doctor told her after a moment. “The blade they stuck in her throat was coated in something. We haven’t - ” She looked back at Nej, pausing, but then knelt beside Ahsoka on the floor. “It’s a toxin of some kind, we haven’t been able to flush it out so we’ve only been able to give her analgesics and a beta blocker. We don’t have the proper instruments or treatments onboard for this kind of damage without knowing exactly what it is.”

“Beta blocker,” Ahsoka murmured, finger curling as she considered this with the information she was picking up through the Force. “It’s damaging her heart?”

The doctor nodded, lips pursed into a concerned expression as they both stared down at Bo-Katan when she writhed slightly on the bed, going tense with pain. The analgesics didn’t seem to be working. 

“We’ve been able to keep her stabilized, but it won’t last long unless I know what to treat her for. The toxin is breaking her cells down and her system can’t handle it much longer. This blood isn’t hers,” the woman added, pointing to the gore-covered breastplate. “She killed four of them before she fell.”

“We killed the other five,” the young woman in the hallway interrupted fiercely. “None of the assassins were left alive. They paid dearly for what they did.”

Ahsoka closed her eyes, blocking out the sounds and presences around her. She kept her hand steady, moving it now to hover over Bo-Katan’s forehead. She could feel it, the toxin. Not directly, of course, but the havoc it was spreading was apparent in the hitching waves under her palm. It felt familiar, like something she had encountered in a different lifetime before her world collapsed. Her eyebrows knitted as she focused, pulling on the Force to bolster herself as she prodded at Bo-Katan’s faltering spirit.

_Tell me, tell me._

There. The knowledge came flooding.

Her eyes snapped open. “It’s from Mon Cala,” she said, knowing the answers as she spoke them aloud. “The toxin is muscarine, from a deep-sea spore kelp in their oceans.”

The doctor stared at her hopefully, eyes wide. “Are you sure?”

Ahsoka nodded and the doctor leapt up, pushing past the others in the doorway and running toward the medical bay. The name was all she needed to create an antidote, and Ahsoka closed her eyes again against a small tide of relief. But then she looked at Bo-Katan, her pale face contorted with pain, and she raised herself just enough to sit on the side of the bed. She picked up Bo-Katan’s gloved hand and held it in both of hers.

Bo-Katan did not react to the touch, though Ahsoka felt the muscles in her fingers contract as a rush of agony overtook her. Ahsoka’s heart hurt to see it, even as she knew help was coming. 

“I’m here, Bo,” Ahsoka whispered to her. “Just hold on a little longer.”

As before, there was no response.

Not quite unexpectedly, Ahsoka felt the fierce need to be closer, to hold her friend tightly and offer whatever relief from the pain she could. 

She released Bo-Katan’s hand and, glancing quickly at the others still crowded in the entryway facing away from them, she slid an arm under Bo-Katan’s shoulders to lift her up. Using the Force to help support her weight as gently as possible, Ahsoka slid into the thin bed behind her, against the short headboard and the wall.

The angry young woman who had followed Nej took a step forward at the sight when she heard the rustle of bedclothes, though Ahsoka continued to ignore her. She wrapped her arms around Bo-Katan’s chest and lowered her down so her back was settled firmly against Ahsoka’s front. 

Bo-Katan made a small, restless noise at the movement as it made her pain swell, and Ahsoka held her more protectively, feeling the chill of beskar under her sleeves. But this way, she could feel it all - the chilly armor, but also every ounce of Bo-Katan’s energy as it coursed through her and into Ahsoka when she opened herself fully to it. 

Ahsoka, in return, could reinforce Bo-Katan’s depleted strength with her own, giving her soul something to hold to while her body fought.

Bo-Katan’s head fell back against Ahsoka’s collarbones, and she brushed sweaty red hair off of her clammy cheeks. “Sleep, my friend,” she said softly, pulling on the Force as she spoke. “Sleep and do not feel your pain. You are safe.”

It took a little more of a push, but Bo-Katan fell into a deep sleep after only a few seconds. Her face went slack, glassy eyes slipping closed with relief. Ahsoka put her hand to Bo-Katan’s warm forehead. The tumultuous swirl of aimless thoughts there had calmed slightly. Bo-Katan would be furious when she learned Ahsoka had used Force suggestion on her, but she would deal with that later.

“Who are you?”

Ahsoka looked up, surprised to remember there was someone else in the room aside from Bo-Katan and herself. The angry young woman from earlier had come further inside, her eyes narrowed and her expression wary. Nej had left with the doctor, no longer there to be a buffer for the woman’s vitriol. Which was fine, really; Ahsoka wasn’t worried, or even put off by the venom in her voice.

“My name is Ahsoka,” she said calmly, most of her focus still on the ebb and flow of Bo-Katan’s energy as it pulsed through her, too. “I am an old friend, I assisted during the Siege of Mandalore a very long time ago.”

“Lady Bo-Katan doesn’t have _friends_ ,” she retorted, frowning. “She has _us_ , her people.”

“Well, she has me, too.”

The woman’s rigid posture relaxed just the slightest bit. She shifted her helmet under her arm, and Ahsoka could feel her thinking about her next prodding question. She could only assume if the newcomers didn’t know who she was by name, then Bo-Katan definitely hadn’t told anyone she used to be in the Order. No use breaking open even more old wounds by revealing things she shouldn’t. 

“You’re a foundling, aren’t you?” she asked curiously, redirecting their awkward little chat before either of them said too much. “You can’t be more than sixteen, rather young to have fought in the wars with your brothers and sisters.”

“So what if I am?” the woman snapped defensively, but then her anger diluted somewhat. “Lady Bo-Katan took me in herself. I am as much a Mandalorian as any of them and I have sworn myself to her cause. I would die for her.”

Ahsoka hummed, running a comforting hand over Bo-Katan’s tangled and dirty hair. It was a touch that she probably didn’t feel; the comfort was mostly for Ahsoka at the moment, a grounding way to stay focused as she kept close tabs on Bo-Katan’s wavering energy. After a moment she nodded, agreeing with the woman’s statement. 

“A foundling is certainly Mandalorian when taken in by one.”

The woman, who still hadn’t given her name, watched Ahsoka cautiously as she continued the back and forth motion of her hand. No one touched Bo-Katan, Ahsoka knew, and perhaps she was making a mistake doing so in full view of anyone who happened to look. But at the same time, she was certainly not going to let her friend suffer when she could ease that pain - and she needed to be touching her to do that.

“Will you get me a bowl of water and a hand towel?” Ahsoka asked when nothing more was forthcoming to the stilted conversation. “We should rinse the blood off her face, at least.”

Surprisingly, the woman acquiesced. She set her helmet down on a thin inset shelf and went to the small attached refresher across the room. There was a clattering, then the sound of water in a sink, and she returned with a shallow bowl and thin washcloth that had seen better days. She placed both on the bedside table with great care. 

Ahsoka thanked her and dipped the cloth into the tepid water with one hand, squeezing out the excess. The woman stepped back, hesitant now, and Ahsoka didn’t need to sense anything from her to know she was nervous about being so close to her unconscious leader. 

Likely for the best, and Ahsoka hid her amused grin. 

She scrubbed the wet cloth gently against Bo-Katan’s grimy cheek. It came clean easily, revealing the freckled and too-pale skin beneath. There were thin lines at the corners of her eyes, more near her mouth, and it struck Ahsoka very suddenly how long it had been since they had seen each other in person. Comms and intermittent holotransmissions were not exactly the same, and she regretted that now. 

“It was a child,” the woman said, bringing Ahsoka’s attention back up. “That’s why she’d taken her helmet off, they used a child to lure her into a trap away from the rest of us. They attacked when her back was turned. _Cowards_ , the lot of them.” And then, very quietly, “Will she be all right?”

Ahsoka gave her a small, tightlipped smile, pausing with the wet cloth pressed to Bo-Katan’s feverish forehead. “Yes,” she said truthfully. “Lady Bo-Katan will be just fine.” She wanted to add _I would never let this woman die_ , though she kept it to herself, instead adjusting her grip around Bo-Katan’s chest with her other arm to hold her a bit tighter.

Before either could say anything more, the doctor came bustling back inside. “Out of the way, Koska,” she snapped with a hint of irritation. 

The woman backed away quickly and the doctor crossed the room to the bed. She was holding a tray laden with freshly synthesized hyposprays and she set it down on Bo-Katan’s motionless thighs to stay within easy reach. Not wasting any time - or giving Ahsoka more than a passing glance of judgement - she swept Bo-Katan’s hair aside and administered the first spray into her neck, then three more.

“There we go,” the doctor murmured to herself, checking Bo-Katan’s pulse and blood pressure with a small gauge from the tray. “We should see results in an hour or so. Her vitals are already stabilizing. Just needs rest now.”

“I’d like to stay here with her,” Ahsoka said, and though it was voiced as an offer she left no room for argument.

The doctor looked at her, and Ahsoka felt gratitude for the information she was able to provide warring with a defensive protectiveness. “I will stay, as well,” she said, “until she wakes. You all - ” and she gestured to everyone gathered in the doorway, “should go about your business.”

Koska, the angry woman Ahsoka had been conversing with, hesitated and gave Ahsoka an annoyed scowl. Ahsoka just watched her calmly, not reacting, until she turned away with a huff. The others followed her and the door finally slid closed, giving them privacy and silence.

Not caring if the doctor wanted to speak to her, Ahsoka dropped the wet cloth into the bowl of water and closed her eyes, lowering her head to press the bottom of her jaw to Bo-Katan’s temple. She took a deep breath, let it out, and took another. Falling into meditation was quite easy for her at this point, and her breath evened as she allowed her consciousness to enter the plane she knew so well. 

Bo-Katan’s spirit, if not her body, was there with her, a bright and familiar pulse of light in Ahsoka’s mind.

The light wavered and then strengthened, like a lighthouse casting its beam over a turbulent ocean. Again it lessened, and again it returned - and each return was brighter, stronger. Ahsoka watched it, the light of her friend’s soul, and reached out with her own to fortify each falter. 

_I’m here_ , Ahsoka told her silently, directly into her lifeforce where they were connected through Ahsoka’s mediation. _You’re safe and protected and you will be okay_.

There was a trace of recognition and, even though Bo-Katan did not physically move, something in her spirit finally realized Ahsoka was near. Not breaking the meditative link, Ahsoka brushed her fingers across Bo-Katan’s forehead, her hair. Giving her something to focus on, she hoped, even in her unconscious state. It seemed to be helping. 

Time passed and passed, and Ahsoka meditated with Bo-Katan glimmering brilliantly beside her.

No one distrurbed them.

Bo-Katan twitched in Ahsoka’s arms. Not from pain, this time, but from waking. Ahsoka opened her eyes, pulled from her meditation at the movement. The doctor was still in the room with them, though she was slumped over the metal desk, asleep. It had been a long while, apparently, though the time meant little to her when Bo-Katan moved again. She made a small noise and, very slowly, opened her eyes, as well.

As soon as Bo-Katan felt the weight of arms around her, however, she jerked her body away toward the wall. “Get off me,” she grumbled viciously, not quite fully aware of her surroundings yet but ready to fight should anyone raise a hand to her. 

She nearly hit the bulkhead with her agitated struggle to escape and Ahsoka immediately released her hold, giving Bo-Katan space to get away or free herself from the confines of the narrow bed. The doctor woke at the commotion, standing quickly to intervene. But then Bo-Katan saw Ahsoka’s leg, by the wall and laid straight on the mattress beside her, and stilled with slow understanding. She turned her head to look at Ahsoka dizzily and blinked several times, her eyes taking a moment to adjust. 

“You.”

“Welcome back to the land of the living, my friend,” Ahsoka said, smiling at her. Bo-Katan just stared, obviously confused and still rather dazed.

The doctor came forward, then, scanner already in hand to wave in Bo-Katan’s face. Bo-Katan let her, finally recognizing she was safe and in her own quarters on her own ship. She flopped back against Ahsoka’s chest, letting the doctor work. Almost mindlessly, she placed her hand over Ahsoka’s, where it was lightly resting across her beskar-clad stomach again, and let out a long breath as she closed her eyes while the doctor’s devices beeped away. 

Ahsoka, only a little surprised at this outward turn in affection, put her other hand back to Bo-Katan’s forehead, feeling for herself that things were starting to return to normal. The treatments seemed to be working perfectly.

After a moment, the doctor put the scanner in her pocket. “Much better,” she said, straightening. As she had before, she glanced at Ahsoka with a questioning expression, though much less judgemental this time now that Bo-Katan had apparently accepted her presence. “Maybe try not to break through the bulkhead,” she muttered, gathering her things, “and get some more rest. I’ll go let everyone know you’re awake and on the mend.”

“Okay, Zena,” Bo-Katan replied tiredly, not bothering to watch her leave. Her eyes were still closed.

Ahsoka didn’t speak to break the silence that had fallen. She listened as Bo-Katan continued to take deep breaths and ran her hand across that messy red hair. Back and forth, over and over. Bo-Katan, in response, left her own hand over Ahsoka’s other, still on her stomach. Her exhaustion was palpable, and Ahsoka simply continued to give what comfort she could.

The easy silence stretched for several minutes before Bo-Katan finally asked, “How did they know to contact you?”

Ahsoka leaned her jaw against the side of Bo-Katan’s head. She smelled so strongly of blood, of stale sweat, but Ahsoka didn’t mind too much if it meant she was alive. “They didn’t contact me,” she said softly. “You did.”

“Bantha shit,” Bo-Katan scoffed. “I think I would remember comming you to say I was dying a very brave and noble death at the hands of my own people.” But then, very quietly, she mumbled, “I thought that was only something you Force-users could do, communicate like that.”

“Every living being is connected through the Force, whether you feel it strongly or you don’t feel it at all. You and I,” Ahsoka told her, “have a type of bond the Force recognizes. I had a vision that you needed me so I came to you.”

“You Jedi are so strange.” Bo-Katan chuckled and mockingly interrupted Ahsoka’s relexsive denial, “I know, I know - you’re not a Jedi.” But she sobered very quickly and tilted her head to look up at Ahsoka above her. “Would it work the other way?” she asked. “Would the Force or whatever tell me if _you_ were in danger?”

Ahsoka wasn’t expecting that, nor was she expecting the unusually forlorn expression on Bo-Katan’s face as she met Ahsoka’s eyes with her own. Ahsoka looked away from her. 

“I don’t know.”

Bo-Katan sighed unhappily and shifted again to lean her head back against Ahsoka’s shoulder, near her lek on that side. She was staring at the far wall, not really seeing. Ahsoka resumed the motion of her hand over Bo-Katan’s hair, also gazing into the middle distance without focus. She could feel the gentle hum of Bo-Katan’s energy, nearly back to normal, and it filled her with relief. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked quietly. She was ruining the calm between them, she knew she was, but she wasn’t able to let the nagging question go without some kind of answer. 

“Tell you what?” Bo-Katan countered defensively.

Ahsoka took her hand from Bo-Katan’s hair and wrapped both arms around her middle instead, holding her friend closely. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Bo,” Ahsoka said, still quiet. But then, deciding the direct route would be best, she added, “Clan Saxon wanting you dead. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What difference would it have made?” snapped Bo-Katan bitterly. “You’re never nearby, so there’s nothing you could have done. Saxon still wants me dead, big fucking deal. It’s not like you’re my personal bodyguard or anything. You’re just my-” but she cut herself off before finishing, her nose turning red with the emotion she was allowing into her voice.

“Come on, Bo, that’s not fair.” 

Ahsoka knew Bo-Katan didn’t mean the harshness behind her statement, not exactly, but her words still tore open Ahsoka’s heart. She wanted to cry. “I’d stay here with you if I could. But we can’t right now, it's just not possible. Not yet.”

Bo-Katan didn’t respond directly, but she rolled slightly to her side to hide her face against Ahsoka’s chest. Ahsoka took this for the silent apology it was and put her hand back in Bo-Katan’s messy hair to cradle her head, accepting what her friend couldn’t say. She swallowed around the lump still clinging to her throat, though the fight seemed to deflate from Bo-Katan’s exhausted body the longer they sat. 

“Can I help you take your armor off?” Ahsoka asked after a few soft minutes. 

It took Bo-Katan a long moment to reply, but she slowly lifted her head to meet Ahsoka’s eyes. Ahsoka was relieved by the small gesture and her lips quirked up in a little smile. Bo-Katan nodded once, sharply, and Ahsoka stood from the bed. She held out her hand and Bo-Katan gripped her wrist, letting Ahsoka give her enough momentum to sit up and swing her legs to the floor.

She swayed to the side, dizzy, and Ahsoka grabbed her shoulder before she could fall over. “Steady,” she murmured. “You’ve been lying down for a while.”

Bo-Katan glared at her, though it was mostly because she hated being so vulnerable rather than out of any kind of anger. Ahsoka smiled at her again. When Bo-Katan gave her another brisk nod, Ahsoka released her shoulder and reached under her right arm for the hidden clasp holding the pauldron on. The piece slid away easily, and Ahsoka set it aside on the floor. The right bracer was next, joining the single pauldron and helmet already there. She worked quickly, quietly, removing the other bracer and pauldron to add to the pile.

The bloody breastplate was next, and Bo-Katan raised her arm away from the side where the invisible clasp was inset in the beskar. Ahsoka removed it with as much care as she could, taking heart at what the doctor had told her hours earlier - the blood was not Bo-Katan’s.

When the weight of the breastplate was removed, Bo-Katan sighed with no small amount of relief. The armor was her second skin but, she had told Ahsoka a long time before, it was heavy.

Ahsoka knelt on the floor and held out her hand, palm up. “Foot,” she commanded, leaving no room for Bo-Katan to argue.

Surprisingly she didn’t, and her left heel landed squarely in Ahsoka’s hand. Ahsoka glanced up to catch sight of Bo-Katan smirking almost playfully down at her, still very tired but now at least amused by the whole situation and not quite as upset. The dim overhead lights glimmered in her eyes. She wiggled her foot. 

“Well?”

“Don’t get cocky,” Ahsoka told her with a little laugh, prodding a slender finger into Bo-Katan’s stomach. She hit firm muscle this time, now that the beskar was gone, and Bo-Katan flinched involuntarily. Ahsoka dropped her hand down to the boot, only having to examine it for a short second to find the correct clasps there. She made easy work of them both, depositing them on the floor with a clang.

Bo-Katan released her belt herself, practically throwing it aside and pushing away Ahsoka’s helping hands. “I’ll do these, thanks,” she said firmly, standing shakily with Ahsoka’s grip back under her arm and reaching toward the inside of her thighs to release the scratched blue greaves. Ahsoka caught them before they could clatter down, setting them gently with the rest. 

All that was left were the thin black garments she wore underneath and, though they were stiff with sweat and smelled quite bad, Bo-Katan sat heavily back on the bed. Ahsoka stood before her, and Bo-Katan looked up to meet her eyes.

“Are you staying?” she asked quietly.

“I was planning on it, yes.” 

Bo-Katan nodded again, silent as she held back whatever else she wanted to say, and Ahsoka reached out to cup her face and turn her wandering gaze back up. She rubbed her thumbs over Bo-Katan’s cheekbones, pleased by how warm her skin was, how alive and real. “Use your words,” Ahsoka told her with a kind smile. “Tell me what you want and I’ll do it for you. Please don’t hide from me now.”

“Lie down with me?” she asked, almost tentative.

Ahsoka leaned forward to press her lips to the top of Bo-Katan’s head near her hairline. “Of course.” She dropped her hands and made a shooing gesture. “Scoot back and make some room for me.”

Bo-Katan complied, lying down on her side facing the wall and shimmying as close to it as she could while still remaining on the mattress. It still only left a thin sliver behind her, but it would do. Ahsoka took off her own belt, setting the lightsabers attached to it gently on top of the pile of beskar.

Ahsoka knelt on the mattress and ran her hand along Bo-Katan’s side to her hip, letting her know she was still there. Taking a moment to tug the thin blanket free from the foot of the bed, she lifted it with a small wave of the Force and lied down behind Bo-Katan, pressing her chest tight against her back. She settled the blanket over them and flicked her fingers again toward the control panel by the door to turn off the lights. 

“Okay?” she asked, wrapping an arm over Bo-Katan’s waist to hold her close in the darkness. She tucked her face against the back of her neck, inhaling the strong scent of her there. Bo-Katan’s hair tickled her nose as she did, and Ahsoka closed her eyes. 

Bo-Katan just hummed, conveying all the emotion and thanks she needed into the sound.

They settled into another comfortable silence. Bo-Katan’s breathing eased out, lengthening and softening as she tipped toward sleep again. Ahsoka held her tightly from behind, doing what she could to help her friend feel safe after this latest brush with death. It didn’t seem like enough, just then, to simply have Bo-Katan in her arms, and Ahsoka could easily see another outcome playing out behind her eyelids. 

“They used a child,” Bo-Katan murmured, jolting Ahsoka back to the present. 

Her words echoed what Koska had told her earlier, and Ahsoka both wanted to know what happened and desperately did not want to hear more.

But Bo-Katan, whether she understood Ahsoka’s inner struggle or not, continued in a hushed and angry whisper. “He was afraid, told me he was lost and needed help to find his mother. My helmet seemed to scare him, and I - I was so stupid, Ahsoka, I took it off. The next thing I knew there was a knife in my throat and too many of Saxon’s warriors were on me.”

A wave of fear, so much like what Ahsoka had felt on her ship hours and hours before, washed over her - both seeping from Bo-Katan and also reemerging from the depths of Ahsoka’s own soul. Hearing this was awful, and she nuzzled her face against the back of Bo-Katan’s neck, not knowing what she could say to make any of this better, either for Bo-Katan or for herself.

“I took down as many as I could,” Bo-Katan added, tucking her knees up and leaning back into Ahsoka’s embrace, “but most of them ran like the cowardly traitors they are. I don’t remember much. It hurt, I _do_ remember that. But then I fell into some kind of fever dream, I guess, and you were here when I woke up.” 

“It wasn’t a dream,” Ahsoka told her without really thinking, the words hitting Bo-Katan’s warm skin. “I guided you into a meditation with me, when you were in the midst of it all. To keep you from the pain.”

Bo-Katan shifted slightly, just enough to pick up her head and take a quick glance over her shoulder. All she could really see of Ahsoka in the dark was her lek and montral, and Ahoska did not move to give her a better view. All of this was too much for her to handle, and seeing Bo-Katan looking at her would tip her over a ledge she was already far too close to. 

Apparently not getting what she wanted, Bo-Katan huffed and flopped back down. 

“I was really scared for you,” Ahsoka whispered. 

Bo-Katan scoffed, though she put her arm over Ahsoka’s where it was draped over her waist. She tangled their fingers together, grasping tightly. “I’m not going anywhere yet, whatever Saxon wants,” she said fiercely. “Mandalore still needs me.”

Something in Ahsoka’s stomach squeezed uncomfortably and she closed her eyes again. “I still need you, too, Bo,” she murmured.

Bo-Katan relaxed at the admission, sticking one of her legs back through Ahsoka’s to keep her close. She brought their clasped hands up, kissing Ahsoka’s knuckles with an aching amount of tenderness. She kept their hands there at her lips, breath warm across Ahsoka’s skin. Her touch conveyed everything she couldn’t.

“Just stay with me for a while,” Bo-Katan said very softly. “That’s all _I_ need.”

“I can do that.”

“Glad to hear it.”


End file.
